Page 39 of The Amsterdam Enigma (The Continental Capers of Melody Chesterton #3)

Now, Mustafa made a decision: he needed to follow this man.

Although it wasn’t what Lalla Melody had instructed him to do, his instincts told him this was important.

He waited until the man had passed him and turned the corner, then stepped out of the shadows and silently followed him.

The man navigated the maze of corridors until he reached a collection of props.

Keeping his distance, he watched a red-haired woman join the man.

While he couldn’t understand what the two were saying, Mustafa could hear enough to know they were speaking German.

Of course, the visiting theatre company was from Germany, so this wasn’t suspicious in and of itself.

If their tone of voice was any indication, the man and woman were arguing. She appeared to be in charge and was berating him. Mustafa remembered what Lalla Melody and Captain Somerset had just been discussing; was this woman the Helga Meier they were talking about?

Then, the woman handed the man a note. After speaking sharply to him once more, she turned and walked away. The man slid the note into his jacket pocket.

The second time Mustafa had encountered Alessandro in Casablanca, the latter had accused him of trying to pick his pocket.

Mustafa had adamantly denied it. While it was true that he was not attempting to pickpocket on that occasion, it was also true that Mustafa had become quite skilled at it since he was orphaned and had to fend for himself.

Now, he considered how he might put that skill to use.

He needed to see that note.

Mustafa looked around. A bundle of wooden prop poles, wrapped in old muslin, was leaning nearby. He grabbed it and stumbled forward just as the man stepped into the light. The boy collided with the man’s chest, poles clattering between them.

The man shouted something in German as he struggled to regain his balance. “Pardon, meneer,” Mustafa muttered, reaching out one hand to steady the man’s arm, while his other hand smoothly slipped into his jacket pocket. His fingers closed around the folded note and skilfully slipped it free.

Mustafa’s light touch hadn’t been enough to stop the man from falling.

As he hit the ground, he shouted again. Mustafa turned away briefly to look at the note.

Then, he bent down as if to help the man up.

As he did so, he slipped the note back into his jacket pocket.

The man pushed him away and stood up on his own.

Then, spitting one final German curse in Mustafa’s direction, he stormed off.

By the time Mustafa returned to the office where Alessandro and Rat were being held, the door was open, and no one was inside.

What did this signify? Where had Sidi Sandworth and Sidi Alessandro been taken?

Mustafa’s heart sank. While he didn’t regret following the man, he had failed to keep watch as he was instructed.

He was unsure of his next move. Eventually, Mustafa decided to leave the theatre to check if Lalla Melody had returned.

He would admit his mistake and accept any reprimand he received.

With a heavy heart, Mustafa made his way out of the theatre.

Did this mean he would be banished from Sidi Alessandro’s household?

He reached the stage door and paused for a moment before leaving.

Mustafa was deeply grateful for the new life he had been unexpectedly given.

He wasn’t ready for that life to be taken away from him.

However, his mother had taught him the importance of honour.

The honourable thing was to tell the truth and admit he had not followed the instructions he’d been given.

As Mustafa exited the theatre, it took him a moment for his eyes to adjust. Before he even realised who was standing in front of him, he found himself pulled into an embrace.

“Thank heavens you are safe,” Melody exclaimed. “We were so worried when you didn’t follow them out.”

Pulling away slightly from the embrace, Mustafa looked up and confessed everything. Then, he hung his head, waiting for his scolding.

“So, the man you followed was someone you recognised from the front desk of the hotel?” Mustafa nodded before describing what the man looked like. “Robert!” she exclaimed in surprise.

Whatever his punishment was destined to be, it appeared it would be decided later. Instead of berating him, the group left the theatre with the boy’s hand held tightly in Melody’s.

Back at Alessandro’s townhouse, Fatima opened the door.

Melody noticed that Rat coloured slightly upon seeing her and was surprised by how sad she felt about Jemima Edward’s duplicity.

She would have liked her brother to have a romance to distract him from this woman, even if it was with someone as irritating as Jemima had appeared to be.

If Fatima was curious about where Alessandro had been all night or what they had been doing, she said nothing. However, her eyes lit up as William entered the house.

“Captain Somerset,” Fatima purred. “What an unexpected surprise.” When Melody first met William, she was at a party in Morocco with Fatima beside her.

Contrary to all expectations, he had barely glanced at the beautiful Moroccan woman and had focused all his attention on Melody.

It seemed Fatima had either forgotten that rebuff or taken it as a challenge.

Despite William’s earlier disinterest in Fatima, Melody’s heart sank; she was all too aware of the effect Fatima’s focused flirtation had on most men. It seemed that even her seemingly domestic cosiness with Alessandro didn’t stop her from directing the heat of her sultry gaze on a new victim.

William’s eyes flicked up to Fatima’s face at her greeting. “Ah, Miss Amrani,” he said stiffly. Melody knew it was petty of her, but she couldn’t help smiling at Fatima’s clear displeasure at further proof of how immune William was to her charms.

Fatima sniffed, said, “I will send in some refreshments,” then turned and left.

The group proceeded to the drawing room. They had spoken little on the tram journey there. Now, as they all took their seats, Alessandro asked Mustafa to repeat what he had muttered to Melody outside the theatre.

The boy explained once more how he recognised the man and followed him to where he met a red-haired woman, who then passed him a note.

“And you got a look at this note?” Alessandro asked.

Mustafa nodded. “I picked up some poles and then bumped into this Robert. He fell, and I managed to get the note out of his pocket and look at it.” If this reminded Alessandro of how he first met Mustafa and the boy’s adamant claim that he hadn’t been trying to pick his pocket, the man was kind enough to say nothing.

Instead, Alessandro asked hopefully, “Did you keep the note, Mustafa?”

“No, Sidi Alessandro. I thought it might be better if the man didn’t realise it had been read.” While this made sense, the group let out a collective sigh of frustration. “But I remember what it said,” Mustafa continued. “Mustafa has an excellent memory!”

Cautiously optimistic, Alessandro rose and found a piece of paper and a pen, then brought them over to Mustafa, who wrote out a perfect copy of what he had seen so briefly. When he was finished, Alessandro examined the writing and then passed it around the group. Everyone shook their heads.

“It is in code,” Rat said. “But not in the same code they were feeding us.”

“Well, that makes sense. We weren’t meant to see this one,” Melody pointed out. She then explained to Alessandro and Rat everything she and William had deduced about the so-called false-flag operations, the manifests they were led to find and imagine they were deciphering.

“I don’t believe it,” Alessandro insisted, with barely restrained anger colouring his voice. He didn’t say more, but his clenched fists and the tense line of his mouth made clear enough his dawning fear that they might be right.

Despite Alessandro’s refusal to accept what had happened, Rat sighed; he suspected that everything Melody and Somerset said was true. It explained so much. It certainly explained how they had conveniently obtained the cypher key.

“Wasn’t it all just a little too easy?” he suggested gently.

Alessandro’s scowl was all the response he received.

Instead of pursuing that thought, Rat said, “While I can’t decipher this note, I will send it securely to Whitehall and see if there are any new German cyphers we’ve uncovered recently that might. ”

“Well, do make sure it’s truly a secure telegram,” Somerset pointed out ruefully. “It seems our communications may be leakier than we realised.”

Still, Mustafa waited for his punishment. At last, it seemed the group had remembered what he had done.

“Mustafa,” Somerset began. The boy lowered his head. “Excellent work, lad. This note might turn out to be pivotal in understanding what has been happening here,” Captain Somerset said as everyone smiled.

The boy beamed with pride.

Rat didn’t hesitate to add, “And excellent work, Melody. As bad as this situation is, it would have been much worse if we had pulled the Dutch authorities into it.”

Melody waited for Alessandro to agree, but instead, he scowled even more.

As she looked at him sitting there, pouting and utterly unable to admit how he had failed in this mission, Melody realised he wasn’t nearly as handsome as she’d initially thought.

In fact, while his features undoubtedly had an almost perfect symmetry, the sharpness of his jawline and cheekbones failed to affect her as they once did.

Instead, the childish petulance suffusing his face at that moment made him look almost ugly.